Soul of a Saiyajin
by redheadturkey
Summary: Vegeta has some marriage troubles. ..please just read and review


Disclaimers: None of these charecters belong to me (except for my shameless Self-Insertion). Vegeta, Goku, and all the other various and sundry of DB fame belong to Funimation and some Japanese man whose name I cannot remember to save my life. Andrew, Tess, and Monica belong to CBS television. Now, on with the show.   
Introduction: What happens when a Saiyajin warrior loses his girlfriend and kids then encounters a couple of angels? Some of it is touching, some of it sad, some funny, some of it even uplifting. For one of the craziest, zaniest, most off the wall and inspirational Dragonball crossovers of all time, read on.  

Goku stretched out on the grass, sighing as the warm sun hit his face.   
"Goku," the voice was feminine, the shadow which blocked out the sun lean and curvacious, "I need to talk to you."   
"What's up, Diane?" Goku smiled up at Capsule Corp's newest daycare worker.   
"I want you to find me another apartment."   
Goku's smile broadened."Vegeta and Bulma's fighting getting to you?"   
"Fighting? More like nightly miniature nuclear explosions. I wake up in the middle of the night terrified one of them's going to kill the other. Is that normal, I ask you?"   
He chuckled. "With Vegeta's Saiyajin temper, yes."   
Diane, however, was not laughing. "It's getting bad. Bulma's been threatening to walk out." **Goku sucked in a breath. "Not good. Bulma's the only thing that's been keeping Vegeta away from the edge all this time. God only knows what he'll do if she leaves. I hate to ask this of you, but could you stay where you are just a little longer? He'll at least talk to you."   
Diane sighed heavily. "I guess so." **

When she got home, it was quiet. Eerily so.   
"Bulma? Vegeta? You guys there?"   
"She's not here," Vegeta's voice as he answered was toneless, completely devoid of inflection.   
"I came to drop off Bra's shoes. Bulma was in such a hurry that I didn't get a chance to stick your daughter's dress shoes back in her bag." She could see the Saiyajin's shoulders tighten with each word, as if bracing for blows.   
"Bra and Trunks aren't here, either." the words came out in that same dead, flat tone. Like lightening, it struck her. After all the delays, Vegeta had finally consented to a wedding date some six months before. Now, some two months before their wedding, Bulma had walked out. And she'd taken the kids with her.   
"I'd like to be alone now, if you don't mind," Vegeta growled. But Diane heard the pain behind the anger and chose to stand her ground. "I said go!"   
That caused Diane's own quite formidable temper to flare. "You think you're more deserving of respect than me simply because you happen to be physically stronger than me?"   
Vegeta turned to face her, a mixture of fierce anger and tearing pain in those nearly coal-black eyes. "You don't understand!" the statement was nearly a shreik. "When she walked out of my life, she took everything that made living on this miserable, God-forsaken planet bearable with her!"   
"Welcome to the real world, Mr. High and Mighty Saiyajin."   
A look of shock crossed the Saiyajin prince's face. He leaned against the wall, sliding to the floor as if his legs were no longer able to carry his weight. When he looked up, his eyes streamed tears. "Is this what you wanted?" His voice broke, forcing him to take a sobbing breath before continuing. "To push me to tears, so that you could make me look more the fool in the eyes of Kakkarot and the others than I already do? Well you've done it. Now you can brag to all your friends that you've made the great Vegeta cry."   
Diane lowered her cerulean eyes, on the verge of tears herself. "Do you really think so little of me, after all the time we've known each other? I would never intentionally hurt you, or anyone else for that matter. I only want to help you. But I can't do that if you won't admit you're hurting".   
Vegeta grinned sheepishly through his tears. "I am such a baka. Bulma was going to go and I never even saw the signs."   
Diane grinned back. "Hey warrior-smart, emotional-stupid. I'm emotional-smart, warrior-stupid, so I guess that makes us about even."   
"Was that what you were trying to tell me? that even the strongest, most intelligent peope have their weaknesses?"   
She nodded. "I'm Christian, you know. And the only two perfect beings on the face of this planet are God and his son Jesus Christ. The rest of us, even you Saiyajins, have our faults."   
The smile left his face. "This whole damn situation hurts like Hell. But do you know what hurts the most?"   
"What?"   
"If she had told me just how serious it was and how to fix it, I would have applied every ounce fo my Saiyajin stubborness to doing so. Bulma and my kids, they mean more than life itself to me."   
Tears sprang to his eyes again unbidden. "This hurts!"   
Diane set a hand on his shoulder. When he didn't shrug it off, she wrapped her arms around him.   
Vegeta, the pain in his soul overcoming the resistance at last, turned into the embrace and the comfort it offered.   
She just held on tight, ignoring the pain in her ribs from the force of his grip. Finally, his vice-like hold on her waist loosened. When she let go, she discovered he'd cried himself to sleep in her arms.   
THANK GOD WE WERE ALREADY SITTING ON HIS BED, she thought, amused, as she stretched him out, removed his boots, stripped him down to his skivvies, and tucked the covers under his chin, I NEVER WOULD HAVE GOTTEN HIM INTO BED BY MYSELF, AND I DON'T THINK THE IDEA OF GOKU PUTTING HIM TO BED WOULD HAVE APPEALED TO VEGETA TOO MUCH. ******* 

A portly, black woman nodded to her companion, a slender, chestnut-haired girl, as they watched the red-haired girl enter the day-care center with the little girl on her hip and the brawny, wild-haired man next to her.   
"His eyes are so sad, Tess," the slim dark-haired girl said in a voice that held a lilting Irish brouge, "What could be so terrible that to would make so strong a man so lonely?"   
"Well, Monica," the black woman answered, "we're going to find out. You see, that man and his kids, they're our assignment, Angel Girl."   
Diane turned after setting the kids down for their naps to find two women standing in the doorway.   
"Hello," the slim, dark-haired one said, "I'm Monica, and this is Tess. We're here regardng the ad in the paper for child-care assistants."   
She smiled at Monica. "That would be great. It's hard, trying to care for all these kids by myself. Not many people have the patience to handle these guys. You see, most of these kids have Saiyajin parents or grandparents, which makes them quite a handful."   
"I saw the little girl and the big man this morning."   
Diane's smile took on a sad aspect. "One of the aforementioned Saiyajins. The little girl was his daughter, Bra. This morning was the first time in three days that Vegeta had seen her."   
"It must be hard for him, not being able to see his children."   
Diane chuckled. "A lot harder for him than he'd ever let on. HIs pride   
tends to get in the way. Just a part of his Saiyajin heritage."   
Monica looked at her, puzzled.   
"Sorry, I've lived among these folk long enough that dealng with extraterrestrials is second nature for me. Vegeta and my friend Goku are Sayajins, a warrior race from the planet Vegetasai. Their homeworld was destroyed, and they are the only two full Saiyajins still alive." Her grin grew wider as Tess shot her a look with as much confusion as Monica's. "When I met them, a biblical quote came to mind. I can never get it right, but it goes something like, 'there are more things under heaven and on earth than are known to man'."   
Tess laughed, too, a deep rich sound. "That there are."   
"You ladies make yourselves comfortable. it's naptime, so you won't see much action for a few hours." ******* 

Vegeta entered quietly moments later.   
"Hello, Di. Where's Bra?"   
"Naptime, Big Guy." Diane answered. "Cot on the end, right hand corner. Please don't wake her. I had a heck of a time getting her settled down."   
Monica watched the muscular, brawny Saiyajin she'd seen earlier as he gently brushed his daughter's turquoise hair off her forehead. It was a magical moment, one in which time seemed to stand still, as he blocked out the outside world and enjoyed a short time of quiet communion with his youngest child. 

"You must be the two assistants Diane just hired," his voice was barely above a whisper as he knelt next to the cot Bra slept on. "Please don't tell her mother I was here. Bulma would throw a fit, then yank Bra out of this day care center fast enough to make your heads spin. I wouldn't want that. There are very few humans I trust with my daughter, and Diane is one of them." 

"We won't," Tess vowed, "I promise."   
"Thank you," Diane had never heard him speak in so sincere a tone, "I won't forget what you've done for me." As quietly as he'd entered, he was gone, like a shadow. 

"Why would a mother not want her children to know their father?" It was Monica that asked that question, "Especially one as devoted to his children as this one seems to be."   
"Bulma is a very stubborn and hot-headed woman, Monica. It is a fault I have learned to accept, for it is one Bulma, Vegeta, and I all three share. What I cannot accept is Bulma's decision to keep Vegeta's children away from him. I might have once, but he's changed so much since then." Diane shook her head. "It's tearing him up inside, Monica, being torn away from those he loves most. He won't admit it, though. I want to tell them both what bakas they're being, but it's not my place to do so."   
" 'Faithful are the wounds of a friend', it says in the Bible," Tess told her, "if you don't stop this when you seem to be the only one who has the insight to see that it's happeneing, no one will."   
"You haven't seen Vegeta in one of his infamous towering rages yet," Diane chuckled mirthlessly, "when you do, I would suggest you run. As fast as you can in the other direction." The chuckle died away, taking the smile with it, " He hasn't had one of those in days, which has me worried. It's like he feels nothing anymore, Nothing but the pain of having his whole world torn apart."   
She felt Monica's arms go around her and let the tears come. "God help me Monica, I love him. But I would rather see him with Bulma and his kids, happy, than have him with me, however much it hurts to give him up." 

Monica and Tess watched as Diane waved goodbye to the last of the children when it was time for the parents to come pick them up.   
Bulma pulled up with a teenage boy who had hair perhaps a shade paler than Bra's that they assumed was the girl's big brother. 

"Mom, "Trunks turned to his mother, "Goten and I were talking at school today. You know how you had Gohan drop Bra off this morning? Well, Gohan talked to Diane, who told him everything. Gohan told Goten, who told me. This is tearing Dad apart, Mom. Despite what you think, he does have feelings."   
Bulma grunted. "What feelings? That insensitive clod is a Saiyajin, remember? Saiyajins do not have such a liability as a heart."   
"That's not true! Remember the time he took Bra to the mall because you had to work and we thought because she'd disappeared that she'd been kidnapped? He was frantic! You know why? Because he loves his daughter, and he loves you. He knew you would be devestated if Bra was gone. He kept saying it was his fault, and that you'd definately let him know it."   
"I did, too, didn't I? That was I fight I don't think either one of us will ever forget. Vegeta went Super-Saiyajin on me, then turned and stormed out."   
"Just because Dad doesn't show his feelings very often doesn't mean he doesn't have them. He told me about Saiyajin culture. Any man that showed any feeling at all was lost. It's taking time for him to get used to being here. All these people, pouring their feelings out, it must be overwhelming for him."   
"Goku seems pretty well-adjusted."   
"Goku was raised here. He didn't have much adjusting to human culture to do."   
Bulma 'Hurrumphed' and sent Trunks in to get his sister. 

"Twunks!" Bra held out her arms to be picked up. "Guess what? Daddy was here! He said don't tell mommy."   
Trunks chuckled as he hefted his three-year-old sister onto his hip. "You'd better not, either, unless you want to hear a lot of screaming."   
"No way! Mommy screams too loud." ******* 

Diane let several days go by in just that fashion, Vegeta sneaking in during or just before naptime to see his daughter and hiding it from Bulma. 

"Hello," Bulma greeted Monica when she came to pick her daughter up a week later.   
"She's been very well-behaved ,Ms. Briefs," Monica smiled at the little girl, "she's such a sweet-natured young lady."   
"There's one trait she definately didn't inherit from her father's side of the family."   
"Why do you say that?"   
Bulma's laugh was warm like flowing honey. "You must never have met Vegeta. He is anything but sweet-natured."   
"Diane told me about him. He was raised a soldier, on a planet of soldiers. That kind of life often creates a tough man. But I believe that though he is hard, he is also honorable."   
"Maybe," Bulma's face took on a thoughtful expression. "I know he's hurting, Monica, but so am I. I left because I couldn't stand the fighting anymore." she sighed. "Trunks is getting annoyed. He idolizes Vegeta, God only knows why. But I don't want to see him hurt, and being torn between his parents because they are always arguig will hurt he and Bra both more in the long run than cutting off all contact with their father would."   
"And what of the father's needs? A man has a right to see his children."   
"I'll try to work something out with Vegeta, but I need time to heal enough to be to talk to him without reopening the old wounds all over again."   
Monica took Bulma's hands in hers. "Starting over is never easy, is it? But though it isn't easy, trying to work things out with another is worth it."   
"I know." 

A phone call came in just then.   
"Yes, Bulma's right here."   
Bulma spoke for a few moments with the person on the other end of the phone, then hung up. "Guess what?" she hugged Diane. "I got my promotion!"   
"That's great."   
"Gotta go"   
******* 

Diane arrived home to the sound of ki-blasts in the gravity-chamber behind their apartment building.   
"Vegeta? You back there?"   
He didn't answer, but she could see his face through the windows. His dead expression gave her chills. Something was not right.   
"What are you doing here?" his voice was scornful.   
"I *live* here, in case you'd forgotten."   
"Go away. I am not in the mood to deal with nosy women today."   
Diane put her hands on her hips, tossing her red curls haughtily. "Bulma got the promotion for head of Capsule Corp's Division of Science and Technology. She just got the news today."   
Vegeta turned and glowered a her. "I heard. Do you know where Tech division's office is?"   
"No. Why?"   
"Stupid female. It's in America. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, to be exact."   
He didn't need to say anything more. "Lord, Vegeta, I am so sorry-"   
He cut her off. "Why should I care, anyway. Bulma's just a stupid, weak-kneed human female, and Trunks is half-human. He'll never have the potential of Kakkarot or I. As for Bra, bah, another simpering female, as bad as the one who bore her."   
She knew better than to take that seriously. "But you do care, no matter how vehemently you try to deny it. No matter what Saiyajin law says, there's no shame in that. In fact, Saiyajin thinking is what got your homeworld destroyed."   
Vegeta's body seemed almost to expand as a golden, flame-like aura sprang up around him. He'd gone Super-Saiyajin in a violent reaction to that statement.   
"Freiza destroyed Vegetasai, and I resent any suggestion otherwise."   
Diane calmly and unflinchingly stood her ground."Yes, Freiza performed the actual destruction, but answer me this. Would it have been possible if Saiyajin culture allowed the bonds of family and friendship that are encouraged here on Earth? Maybe, but it would have been a Hell of a lot more difficult. A society of even the weakest individuals that works together is stronger than any one man, even the strongest, alone. You see, it's *because* of your family and the ties you have with them that you have been able to survive here. So of course the loss of them is going to hurt. It's only logical."   
"I hate hurting like this. I can't think straight, making it harder for me to fight it."   
She spoke gently as the Saiyajin began to calm down. "Grief is a natural process, Vegeta. Fighting it is the worst thing you can do.. The pain will fade, but only with time and patience. And patience, I am sorry to say, is something in which you are of short supply, my friend."   
He chuckled. "I hate you. You always manage to make me laugh, even when I don't want to."   
"Only because I have an almost unerring intuition when it comes to the way men's minds work. Saiyajin men are no different than human men in that respect."   
Diane laughed as Vegeta bristled, them delivered the final teasing blow to his ego. "Men, the lot of you, are stubborn pigs who refuse to admit that they can be hurt. Maybe it's a pride thing. That's why God invented women's intuition."   
"Women's intuition is the reason we men are so damned close-mouthed."   
"Don't even get me started on the war between the sexes. I know infinately more about both sexes than you do, which means I'd win any argument on that subject hands down and wound your male pride even more than I already have." 

"Vegeta!" The voice belonged to Goten, the younger of Goku's two sons, "Come quick! Trunks is fighting with one of the neighborhood gangs, and he is in a bit over his head."   
"Why is he fighting with them?"   
Goten let loose a mirthless laugh. "Defending my niece's honor. One of them called Pan a barbaric little bitch."   
That stirred the Saiyajin prince to a fine rage the likes of which he'd not felt in weeks, a cleansing fury which drove every last vestiege of his depression away. For the first time in over a week, the daredevil grin of a seasoned warrior lifted the corners of his mouth. He leaped head-first into the pile of writhing bodies and flying fists. All it took for Vegeta to end the fight were a few well-placed ki-blasts.   
"Now," his voice was a low growl, lips drawn back into a feral, wolf-like snarl, "I will say this only once. If I ever see ANY of you raise your hand with violent intent toward my son again, I will personally kill each and every one of you loathsome humans where you stand. Have I made myself clear?"   
They nodded, faces frozen in shock. Then, fear took over, causing them to break and run.   
Vegeta extended a hand to help Trunks to his feet.   
"How, praytell, did you manage to get yourself in over your head with a bunch of humans?"   
Trunks grinned at his father's ironically lifted eyebrow.   
"I know most of those kids, first off, which means I didn't want to rough them up too much. Also, one of those kids had an extremly high ki-level. With training, that one might have been more deadly than both of us together."   
"There was actually an adversary worthy of your mettle in that cowering bunch? I don't believe it."   
Trunks grinned again, then his grin faltered as he saw his mother in the window of their apartment, glowering darkly.   
"I gotta go, Dad." 

Vegeta turned to make his way back to his apartment. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end with a sense of rising danger.  
Then, a sharp, stabbing pain exploded between his shoulder-blades. Shock froze his muscles for a few short seconds, then he shook off the pain as anger claimed him. His head whipped around to confront his attacker. It was a teenage girl with hair cropped so short she could easily have passed for a boy, the only tell-tale marks of her gender being the delicacy of her facial features and the size of her uptilted ice-green eyes.   
"You bastard," she hissed, "you hurt my brother."   
Vegeta immediatly knew this was the one Trunks had spoken of as her bangs lifted from her forehead in an unnatural wind.  
He assumed a defensive crouch, the movement sending a shiver of pain through him. He reached around to the spot that the flames emanated from, his hand encountering the smooth, hard surface of a knife-hilt.   
"You may take me bitch," he spat, "but you can be certain I will take you with me."   
A glob of blood-flecked saliva landed directly in front of her feet in unspoken challenge.   
He was as good as his word, even gravely wounded as he was.   
Until the rest of the gang joined in.   
IF I COULD ONLY FIND THE STRENGTH TO POWER UP, he thought fiercly, THE COPS WOULD NEED AN ELECTRON MICROSCOPE TO IDENTIFY THE REMAINS OF THESE STUPID PUNKS!   
A beefy fist found its way past his weakening guard, lifting him off his feet as it impacted with his jaw. He slowly climbed back to his feet, weakness and pain forgotten as he entered the classic Saiyajin berzerker rage.   
"What does it take to make you stay down, idiot?" the girl taunted.   
"A lot more than you can do to me woman," he replied.   
A feminine roar of outrage assualted his ears from behind him. Fury smoldered in a pair of narrowed sea-blue eyes. Never had Vegeta see any human look QUITE so formidable as Diane did in that moment.  
To the surprise of everyone, including Dane herself, a ball of white-hot energy was launched from her clenched fingers, knocking the entire gang unconscious.   
"How the hell did I do that?"   
"I don't know, but I'm sure glad it wasn't ME that pissed you off," Vegeta quipped.   
His knees buckled beneath him as the rush of battle faded, allowing the severity of his injury to make itself evident. "This just isn't my day," was the last thing he said just before darkness claimed him. 

***Goku!!*** Diane hoped her mental cry would reach a receptive mind.   
It was not Goku who answered the summons, but Goten, Gohan, and Trunks.   
Gohan gasped as he took in the situation. Diane was sitting on the hard-packed earth, Vegeta's nearly-ghost-pale form cradled in her lap, her hands and clothes soaked with his blood. 

"Gohan! Thank the Lord someone heard! Vegeta's been stabbed!" 

Ten minutes later, Diane was in an aircar, still cradeling the unconscious saiyajin protectively, Chi-Chi behind the wheel. 

"Help!" Chi-chi's screech penetrated Wukang Hospital's Emergency ward.   
Emergency physicians wheeled him into the exam room, and the waiting began. 

Diane called Bulma's apartment, but got no answer. Her worry was such that she couldn't remember the com-code for Bulma's portable, so she called the day-care center, hoping Tess or Monica would still be there.   
"Hello?" Monica's lightly-accented voice sounded on the other end.   
"Monica! Thank God! I was afraid you'd left already. In the second drawer of my desk is a list of all the com-codes of all the parents whose kids attend the center. Could you look up the number for Bulma's hand-held for me?"   
"Sure, what's wrong?"   
"Vegeta's been hurt. I can't reach Bulma at her apartment, and I thought she should know."   
Monica gave her the number.   
"Thanks, Monica, You're such an angel. Bye."   
IF ONLY SHE KNEW. . .the thought made Monica smile almost involuntarily as she hung up. 

It took four rings to get an answer from Bulma on her portable.   
"Good Lord," Bulma gasped as Diane relayed the news to her, "I am on my way."   
She got there ten minutes later. "How is he?"   
"Don't know yet," Diane's eyes were dry, but the tremors in her hands betrayed her worry, "The doctors took him in about 15 minutes ago. We should hear something soon."   
"The government ordered all the recovery tanks dismantled. 'Experiemental technology', they said," she 'haruumphed' at that, "I wish we had one now."   
The head physician, a small oriental woman with her hair tied up in a neat bun on the top of her head, approached.   
"Mrs Briefs, Mrs. Matthews," her voice was birdlike, high and clear, "he is stable. The only life threatening injuries, a punctured lung and a scratch across the heart, have been treated. I need to talk to you about something else, however." She looked down, then looked back up, a serious expression on her face.   
"What is it, Doctor?"   
"There was some bruising around his spine. We do not yet know how serious it is, but there is likely to be some degree of paralysis. Whether it will be permenant or not, only time will tell." 

Bulma and Diane both flinched, faces going sheet-white in shock. They both knew too well that a physical disability such as this would most likely cause Vegeta to become suicidal.  
He'd faced all manner of battles with unswerving courage. But would his courage be enough to get him through this battle, one the likes of which he'd never faced? Neither one of them was sure, and that was what scared them.   
"May we see him?" Diane asked.   
"Of course," her brown eyes twinkled, "This way." 

A loud thud sounded from inside the room the little, bustling Japanese woman had led them to.   
"Doctor Toma-Sama!" One of the nurses called. "We need you!"   
There, on the floor, struggling with the nurses who were attempting to help him back into the bed, was a very angry and distressed Saiyajin prince.Finally, one of them managed to slip a needle into the skin of one flailing arm. Calm quickly descended as the sedative took effect.   
"Might want to get him back into the bed pretty fast," Diane advised, "That tranquilizer is bound to be burned of fairly quickly, if his metabolism is anywhere NEAR as high as that of the only other Saiyajin I know."   
Vegeta glared at the three orderlies who'd been drawn by the commotion as they lifted him off the floor and back into the bed.   
"What happened?" Diane and Bulma asked at the same time.   
"I was hungry," he growled, "Would anyone care to tell me why I ended up on the floor?"   
Diane's throat closed up. She simply couldn't get the words past the lump in it.   
The blood slowly drained from his face as he took in their tearful expressions."That knife did more than just puncture a lung, didn't it?" Those dark eyes would allow no lies, no lessening of the blow.   
"Yes," Diane finally said, "it did."   
"Tell me," he demanded in a slightly shaken tone.   
"They found some spinal damage."   
Vegeta's face got even paler, if that was possible. "How bad?"   
"They don't know," it was Bulma who answered, for Diane had burst into tears, "It may completly heal, it may not. It's just too soon for them to tell."   
"Gods. . ." he uttered hoarsly.   
The two of them ushered the medical personnel out, knowing Vegeta was near tears and would hate himself later for breaking down in front of strangers. 

"Hey, guys," Goku entered, smiling as he always did. "I brought Bra up. She was driving Trunks crazy begging to see her father."   
"Go away, Kakkarot." Vegeta's voice was gruff, almost nasal with the effort to fight back the pain.   
Goku's jaw droppped in shock. Never had he heard that tone from Vegeta before, not even before Freiza had been vanquished.   
"Just leave Bra and go," Diane gulped back another sob, "I'll explain later."   
He nodded and left without protest.   
Bra clambered up onto the bed. "Daddy!"   
Vegeta swept the child into a fierce embrace, alone finally with those he loved and free to vent his grief.   
"Why is Daddy crying?" Bra asked as she gently soothed this man who had provided half of what and who she was.   
"He got some bad news today, honey," Bulma answered. Her arms ached to wrap themselves around the father of her children, but to give in to that urge would lead her to do something that would hurt him far more later than he was already hurting, and she knew it all too well.   
For the second time in the apce of two weeks, he'd cried himself to sleep. 

"It was my fault," Trunks hung his head when Bulma broke the news to him, "if I hadn't fought with those kids, Dad wouldn't have gotten hurt."   
"No," Bulma insisited, "you did the right thing. There was no way you could have known how strong that girl was."   
"Hello?" There, framed in the doorway, was the subject of their conversation.   
Trunks went SuperSaiyajin in an instinctive defensive reaction. "Get out of here, Bitch, before I do something we will both regret."   
But she neither flinched nor showed any signs of anger. Instead, her eyes filled with tears of remorse. "I didn't come here to fight you. I know nothing I say can justify what I have done, but I wanted you to understand what drove me to it."   
"I don't want to hear your excuses."   
Bulma set a hand on his arm. "Trunks, hear her out."   
A tail emerged from behind her, curling elegantly around her wrist.   
"You have a tail?" amazement shook him out of his rage.   
"I got it from my mom. You know about. . .?"   
"Yeah, Dad's Saiyajin, too." 

She lowered her head at that reminder of why she'd come. "I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused your family. My name is manda Balson. My father is human, but sometimes he makes me hate everything my human half represents. He's been beating me and my brother Jimmy since we were little, and he''s probably been beating Mom since they got married. Mom could probably have killed Dad if she tried, but fighting just isn't her way. So it's up to me to protect my family." Again, her eys flooded, "I have found the last remaining members of Mom's people. But one of them is going to be too mad to listen when I tell them both how long Mom has been searching for them. I've ruined everything."   
Bulma chuckled ruefully. "Vegeta is not a very forgiving man. We will talk to him, though." 

"Amanda?' the woman in the door was obviously fully Saiyajin. Her hair was dark and wild, though a bit softer in texture than Vegeta's, her eyes a deep brown. "Have you been here all this time?"   
"Mom? What are you doing here?"   
"Looking for you. Jimmy and I were worried about you."   
Amanda smiled ruefully. "I didn't mean to worry you. Mom, may I introduce you to Bulma Briefs, mate to your homeworld's Prince."   
Bulma shifted uncomfortably. "Not anymore. We broke up a couple of weeks ago." 

Mrs. Balson nodded, understanding Bulma's quandry all too well. "I know it isn't always easy overcoming cultural differnces. William's been drinking for years. . .it hasn't been easy to hold to the promise I made when I came here. The promise to never let the violent nature that is bred into my race to cause me to act in a way I would later regret." 


End file.
